The Hero: Alfred Jones
by Demoness99
Summary: I was sitting on a bench with my sketch book in my lap, watching the people pass by as did my favorite thing. Drawing random people. That's something I really like to do. I see someone I find interesting and I draw them in my sketch book." A girl decides to follow him so that she can draw him. No paring. No human au.The girl is just an american citizen.


I met this interesting guy yesterday. He had dirty blonde hair with a cowlick, blue eyes, a brown bomber jacket, a grey shirt with the american flag on it, jeans and sneakers. I was sitting on a bench with my sketch book in my lap, watching the people pass by as did my favorite thing. Drawing random people. That's something I really like to do. I see someone I find interesting and I draw them in my sketch book. Those who know of this hobby if mine thinks I'm creepy, but I don't think so myself. To me it's as normal as collecting stamps or something 'normal' like that.

On with the story.

The guy I just described walked past me and saw me looking at him. He smiled at me, all I could do was blush. He was really handsome. He turned his head to look at the tree on the opposite side of the street. I furrowed my brows at his behavior, then I heard a little child cry. My gaze were also drawn to the tree. A little boy was standing in front of it, crying while calling for a 'Fred'. The guy jogged over to the child and kneeled down to him. He said something I didn't catch and started to climb the tree. I watched him as he climbed pretty high, took a cat into his arms and climbed down again. He gave the cat to the child and smiled at him before saying something I, once again, didn't catch. The boy thanked him and ran down the street with his cat in his arms. The guy stood up and walked away, still smiling.

I found him very interesting and of course I forgot to draw him while I still could. I didn't want to miss the chance to draw him so I stood up and followed. He walked with his hands in his pockets, whistling some random tune. I followed him as I did my best to sketch him out while I was walking. (Which was very hard, mind you) After a while of walking we both heard a child's cry for the second time of the day. He turned right and walked straight over to a little girl who looked really scared. She was crying. I back away a bit, not wanting to be noticed. The guy kneeled down to the child and asked her why she was crying. She told him it was because she had accedently lost her grip of her mother's hand and got lost in the crowd. The guy calmed her down and told her that he'd help her find her mother. The little girl stopped crying and nodded. He took her tiny hand in his and started walking around. I followed them, thinking that this scene was much more nicer than the one with him just walking. I turned the page and started sketching the scene in front of me. Meanwhile the guy and the girl was calling for her mother. I kept sketching and they eventually found her mother by a small ice cream shop, desperatly looking for her daughter. The mother thanked him by giving him a kiss on the cheek and said some nice words. I couldn't help but smile at the cute blush on the guy's face. He told her it was nothing and smiled before walking away from the little reunion.

He continued walking down the street. I felt like a stalker. But hey, it's not like it's for some sick purpose. I just like drawing people I see. I turned the page to draw him in another pose. I crossed the street to draw him from the side. He put his hands in his pocket and kicked some rock. I sketched him out for the third time this day. This time I was almost done with the drawing before something interruped me. That someone took hold of my arm and pulled me into an alley. It turned out to be some guy with a hood and a knife. He told me to hand him my bag. I tried to tell him that it was only my drawing equipment, but he refused to listen. He took hold of my sketch book and threw it on the ground. Then he yelled at me, asking me if I wanted to die. I cried out a 'no' and before I knew it the guy was ripped away form me. The guy who I was drawing earlier appeared with his back to me. He punched the guy with the hood and told him that he should not treat girls like this. The other guy tried to stab him but he was too fast, he knocked him out. I just stood there, shocked. I thought I was going to die. The guy I had been following turned around and smiled at me. I smiled back as I stood there, awkwardly rubbing my neck and thanking him.

That's is the reason why I don't really talk to other people than my family. I'm awkward and don't know how to handle situations. And I'm pretty much anti-social, I don't really have any friends.

Back to the story.

I thanked him awkwardly and walked over to my sketch book. Scratch that, I was pretty much running. I didn't want him to find out that I had been following him around for some time. He, however, was faster than me. He ran to my sketch book and picked it up for me. What I heard next was something I did _not _expect him to say. 'Is it okay if I look at the drawings you drew of me?' he asked. I was really shocked, but nodded non-the-less. He opened the book (It closed itself when it hit the ground) and looked through my drawings of him. I looked down at my feet, embarrassed out of my mind. After a moment of silence he told me said that I was really good and asked me if I were going to be an artist when I graduate. It's only a few months until my graduation and I can't say I've not been thinking about it. I told him that I do want to. He gave me my sketch book back and smiled softly. He said that I should try and that I've got the talent. It made me really happy. We talked for a bit before we said goodbye and started walking in different directions. I looked down at my drawings of him and realized that I wanted a name to go with. I turned around and looked for him but he was nowhere to be seen. I sighed and decided to name him myself. I thought for a few minutes, then I came up with a great name.

Alfred Jones. Alfred because of the cat he saved earlier that was named Fred and Jones because that was what they called my father in the army. He died protecting this country. I see him as a hero.

I wrote down the name next to the figures on the paper. Under the name I wrote a well-earned 'The Hero'.

_Alfred Jones The Hero._


End file.
